Powerless
by StoryGirl02
Summary: Kurt is powerless to stop Death. Spoilers for 'Grilled Cheesus'


**Powerless**

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**Kurt hates hospitals.

There's nothing to it, the place just oozes death, even if the nurses do spent hours trying to make the overly-sterilized place homely. It had boded death when he had been nine, and now, some seven years later, it still reeks of death. Now, even though he didn't believe in God, because after all who could really prove that there was one, he did believe in death. Death was probably the worst thing that could ever happen to someone, and it almost always occured early to someone that was good. Death had taken his mother, his beautiful caring mother who often watched musicals with him and re-enacted the Sound of Music whenever he felt like it, it had snatched her up into it's cold, withered hands and wisked her away from the husband and son that adored her. Now it was looking to do the same with his Dad, and he was powerless to stop it. Death was like the world's worst dicator; it did what it pleased, whenever it wanted.

Death is going to ruin his life, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He feels like bursting into tears when he has to go back into the French classroom and see everyone's smiling faces just after Mr. Schue told him that his Dad was in hospital, and that it was critical and that he needed to go see him right away. How could the whole world not be affected by this, why was it only him that felt like sobbing until he ran out of strength to wipe away the tears. So he just gets his shoulder bag, nods softly at the teacher and walks out, eyes blinking furiously in a vain attempt to keep the tears at bay. He can break down and sob later, but if he does so now in front of the whole school, he'll never be able to face anyone again. Mr. Schue nods softly at him, and they sped off to the District Hospital, the car trip silent as he just sits and stares out of the window, ignoring Miss Pilsbury's concerned glances in the rearview mirror every five seconds.

All he can think about is the way it felt when he learnt his Mom was sick. He was nine, and it was a cool spring day. Upon his arrival at home, he found his Mom spewing up loudly in the down stairs toliet, her cheeks tear-stained. At first he thought that this furious vomiting was a good sign, perhaps his desire for a baby brother or sister had finally been answered. But when his Mom back away from the toliet and wiped her mouth tiredly, that's when he spotted it. The faint trickle of blood mixed in with her vomit. Despite his young age, he knew that vomiting up blood was definitely not a good sign. But he kept the thought to himself, because after all it had just been a one-time thing, his Mom said so. Weeks past with no sign of any looming bad events, and then one day he walked down the stairs on a Sunday morning to find his Mom sobbing into the couch, his Dad watching from the bathroom.

It had been bowel cancer. There was nothing that they could do to remove the cancerous cells, all they could possibly try was a round of chemotherapy, and even then it might not even work, her cancer was so advanced. Had there been any signs, the doctor's all repeated the same question to which his Mom said no. No signs, none. But he knew better. If only he had alerted something of the blood in her vomit, if only they had caught it earlier. It was all his fault that she was going to die, and nothing could change that.

He's not going to let the same thing happen with his Dad though. If there is a God up there somewhere, then he cannot possibly take away both of his parents. It just isn't fair, and it's not going to end the same way as his Mom's life did. His Dad is not going to have wires attached to him and be prodded with needles, he's going to wake up. And when he does, Kurt is going to hug him and never ever let go. He nearly faints when he sees his Dad, motionless on the flat hospital bed. He's never ever looked like that before, and despite everything Kurt begins to worry that maybe he won't wake up, maybe he'll never open his eyes again.

He'll have to bury another parent.

So he squeezes his Dad's hand tight and wishes for anything, any sort of recogniztion, to come back. When it doesn't, he feels like vomiting all over the sparkling tiles.

Kurt hates hospitals, and Death.

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**Review?**


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